


who'd have ever thought that this could be

by daysinthesun



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, aka no more Meme Queen Adam, anyway this is all going to be hella fluffy and angsty all at once, bc that is my style, but hey this is part of a prompt thing for the month of June and y'all should check it out, oh god I will never live that down, yo I'm finally writing serious fic again!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:03:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daysinthesun/pseuds/daysinthesun
Summary: A series of one shots involving Belle and Adam following thestanfoubrew and remuslupinsmiled's daily fic prompts for the month of June in celebration of the DVD release. Hopefully you all will join me :)Note: I changed the rating to M just to be safe since I posted the bath prompt, although many of my friends that write fic on here agree it's very vague and is probably more T than anything, so no worries, it's really not that NSFW.





	1. morning

_**morning** _

The sunlight streamed gently into the West Wing, trickling down the curtains surrounding Adam’s bed and dancing upon the golden streaks in his hair. Stirring awake, he subtly noticed the soft warmth hitting his back, but there was a much deeper warmth pressed against his entire front, a warmth that was slowly moving in his arms, burrowing deeper into his chest.  
  
The events of the previous night poured back into his mind, and he opened both eyes to see Belle had not moved an inch from the position she’d fallen asleep in: her leg wrapped around his middle, her left arm around his upper torso, attempting to be as close to him as possible. She was still in her blue dress, which she’d changed into after they greeted the newly-human servants and realized by societal standards, they were both essentially in their undergarments.  
  
Becoming human again was obviously overwhelming for Adam. He was at least two feet shorter, and his entire frame took on a completely different, smaller shape, throwing off his balance immensely when he walked. He couldn’t even fathom how Mrs. Potts and Chip were adapting to having hands again.  
  
But he knew it was strange for Belle too, strange to see him not only alive but human again when she’d been weeping over his body for what felt like hours, convinced her father would discover her still there the next morning, that he would have to pull her away from her Beast.

  
These changes emotionally exhausted them both, and after some celebration with the servants and a wonderful early dinner presented by Lumiere, they each retired to their rooms early.  
  
Before the sun had even begun to set, they both collapsed onto their beds and slipped into a light sleep, but both Belle and Adam found themselves woken by nightmares less than an hour later. So, they both rose to find each other, following the path of the hallway and unintentionally meeting in the middle. Belle had been swiftly walking, her pace frantic, and bumped right into a tall, handsome man, dressed in a simple blouse and breeches.  
“Oof!” she gasped as he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her from falling.  
“You know, I should really be the one falling all over the place right now,” Adam teased.  
She attempted to give him her usual half-smile, one that always seemed part playful and part loving, but it was weak, and he quickly let go of her.  
“Are you alright?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.  
“I...I had a dream,” she answered.  
He carefully moved his hand to rest on her shoulder, his eyebrows raised, prompting her to elaborate.  
“But Adam, it wasn’t a dream. It was just a memory. You died. You really, truly died. And all I could do was lie there on the ground next to you, trying to will you back.”  
“But you did will me back, Belle. You came back and you brought me back. You do understand that, right?” He replied in astonishment.  
“I don’t know…” her voice trailed off, her mind clearly still replaying the scene on repeat.  
  
He grabbed her hand, guiding her towards the West Wing and shutting the door behind him. They both sat on the bed, but all she could do was avert his gaze, staring directly ahead to the spot on the floor where she’d lost him and found him again.  
He tentatively raised his hand to her cheek, pulling her face to look at his.  
“Belle, it’s me. And if you have trouble seeing that, I completely understand. It’ll take time-”  
“It’s not that, Adam. I know it’s you. I just can’t stop thinking about how close I was to not having you, to being separated from you forever.” she whispered.  
He was silent for a moment before replying. “I felt the same way, you know.”  
“You must have known I’d come back? Even without the mob?” She asked.  
“Why should you?” he said sharply, although the words were not meant to pierce her. They were aimed towards himself.  
She placed her hands on his, which were resting in his lap. “Because I would’ve missed you. No, not even that. Because there was no question that I belonged anywhere else at that point but here, with you.” she asserted.  
“Nowhere else but a place you were imprisoned?” he muttered.  
She mirrored his earlier action, placing her hand on his jaw and pulling him towards her.  
“Nowhere else that could ever feel like home,” she stated, her voice cracking slightly as her eyes shone with tears.  
His reaction reflected hers, his eyes beginning to water up a bit as well, and he pulled her to him, resting his head on her shoulder.  
  
They stayed like this for a while before she finally whispered: “Can I stay here tonight? Please, I need to feel you next to me.”  
He would’ve replied no, for propriety’s sake, but he knew that not only could he never deny her anything, but also that he needed her in the exact same way. And so they lay down, gripping each other so tightly, so afraid that one of the two bodies will be missing if they open their eyes. Instead, they both woke to find nothing had changed, that they were still themselves. That they were still together, and everything was okay.  
_“We’re together now, everything will be okay,”_ Belle had sobbed as she clutched on tightly to the Beast the day before.  
It may have felt like a lie in that moment, but Adam knew nothing was truer as Belle lovingly gazed into his eyes, a sleepy smile shining brighter than the sunlight outside the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!! As I said in the description, these are all written for thestanfoubrew and remuslupinsmiled's fic prompts for the month of June, which I'll link below. I'm posting day one early so you all have a chance to check out these amazing prompts and get a feel for it! Hopefully you all will join me :) also, please do leave comments and let me know what you think of these!! I'm still pretty new to fic writing (I've really only written one serious fic, which you can find on my profile) so I'd love a little encouragement :)
> 
> https://thestanfoubrew.tumblr.com/post/161031220759/beauty-and-the-beast-fanfictionfanart-celebration


	2. jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Adam discuss certain dreams she had about him during the curse, and what happened in them.

**_jealousy_ **

 

 A week had passed since the curse was broken, and Adam and Belle had spent nearly every second of the day together, valuing their time together more than they ever had now that they’d each had a taste of living without the other. One morning, Adam walks into breakfast, dressed in a gold suit with a darker gold trim. Belle would laugh at how similar he looked to Lumiere if her mind wasn’t immediately occupied with the strangest sense of deja vu. Her dark eyebrows furrowed, examining him further as he walked towards her, a beaming smile on his face - one that had hardly left him in the past seven days. 

 

“Good morning, my love,” he murmured, his voice soft as he gently raised her hand to kiss it. Normally, her cheeks would flush a bright peachy-pink, but her eyes were still fixated on his coat and breeches. She managed to smile, but her eyes were somewhere else, and Adam immediately felt his lungs tighten, threatening to collapse in on themselves. Had he done something wrong? Had she finally realized he wasn’t good enough for her? She partially snapped out of her thoughts as she noticed the frantic look in his eyes when he removed his hand from hers.    
“Oh, I’m sorry, Adam. I just...I have the strangest feeling,” she attempted to explain, but once again she became lost in her thoughts.    
He let go a slight breath at that, though his eyes were still cautious. “Is something wrong?” he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.    
  


“Not at all,” she eased. “I just feel as though I’ve seen that coat somewhere…”   
Adam finally relaxed, letting out a much deeper breath as his shoulders fell from their tense position. He sat at her side, quietly laughing.  _ “That was terrifying,” _ he muttered, beginning to pick at his croissant. He raised his head to see her staring at him once again, though it was not the usual stare he’d recieved several times this week - the one where she was admiring his new face, trying to memorize every part of it - this time it was perplexed, before she gasped, jumping in her seat.    
“What? What is it?” He questioned, once again feeling slightly uneasy.    
She beamed at him, grinning a brilliant smile. “I have seen that coat before, Adam. I dreamt it,” she whispered.    
“What on earth are you talking about?”    
“You see, I’d completely forgotten, as one does when a certain amount of time passes after waking. But one night, a month or so ago, I’d actually dreamt of you, as you are now.” She paused, then she looked at him, her expression full of wonderment and nostalgia. “Actually, several times, now that I think about it.”    
He gulped. “You dreamt of me as a human?”   
She placed her hands in her lap, fidgeting, her cheeks beginning to flush. “Yes, sometimes. After you’d taken me to Paris, I’d gone in your room again to find you. I wanted to…” she stopped herself.    
“You can tell me anything, Belle.”   
“I wanted to see you. I was upset, and I was hoping you’d comfort me. You weren’t there, I suppose you were walking around the grounds or something, but I saw your portraits again, so I took the chance to look at them a bit more closely,” she confessed. “I began to wonder about breaking the spell, and, although I couldn’t admit it - I began to hope I could so that maybe...maybe I could be with you. I think, deep down, at that point, I knew I wanted that. And I knew it would be a bit odd if you weren’t human.”    
  


Adam dropped his fork, shocked that Belle had been slightly conscious of her feelings that entire time. Weeks had passed after Paris before they had their dance.    
“I pushed it down, of course,” she continued. “I didn’t want to think about the possibility of feeling something for you. It was just too overwhelming of a thought at the time, when I still wasn’t sure if I was in the castle because I wanted to be or because I had to be. But that night, I’d been just laying there, trying to fall asleep, wishing I could have found you so I could talk to you. And somehow, as I drifted off, I began to think of you if the curse was broken. I began to think of what could happen between us. And once I was finally asleep…”   
“Yes?” Adam begged, his voice desperate.    
“I’d dreamt that I’d kissed you. That’s all I remember from the dream, it was all so hazy, but it was sunny out, and the snow was no longer covering the castle grounds. That coat sparkled, and you were holding me. I remembered it for a fleeting moment when I woke up, and in that moment….well, I’d almost been disappointed I’d woken up. But I pushed it down after that.”    
  
There was a period of silence, Adam unsure of how he felt. He was completely baffled, overwhelmed. It was so much all at once - for one, Belle had some sort of idea that she loved him far before he’d been shot or danced with her. Two, Belle had dreamt of him, his human self. Suddenly, he felt a wave of uncertainty, feeling strange in his own skin, like his hands were still paws, his teeth still fangs. He realized he was jealous that she’d dreamt of this version of himself, and not the Beast that had fallen in love with her.  _ He was jealous of himself. _ He worked up the courage to ask her the question that had tormented him not just in that moment, but all week.    
  


“What if the curse hadn’t been broken?” His eyes were downcast, looking nearly disappointed in the response he hadn’t even received yet.    
She immediately stood, kneeling next to his chair and placing her hands softly on his jaw. “Oh, Adam. Please, please know I loved you just as much as a Beast as I love you a man. The reason I had the dream was  _ because _ I felt something for you back then - for  _ you _ , as a Beast - and there were things that I couldn’t help but wonder about. Things that I might want to do someday, that I think we can both admit I couldn’t do with you in that form.”    
Realization dawned upon him, and his cheeks became red. He attempted to mask the shy reaction with a smirk, or anything that resembled the confidence he truly lacked deep down.    
  


She grabbed his hands, now gripping them tightly. “That night, far before that dream, I went looking for _you,_ ” she assured. “I wanted to be with you when I was hurt and sad. I wanted you to...hold me. That’s what I was hoping for. That maybe we could just sit there together. That’s what I needed in that moment: _you._ The rest were just questions my consciousness had provided when I was half asleep.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw, her lips close to his ear. “I love you, Beast or man. And I would’ve stayed with you for evermore either way. I just simply couldn’t do this,” she whispered before placing her lips on his, gently at first but then deepening it as he relaxed, falling into her completely. Still on her knees beside his chair, he swept her up in his arms, placing her onto his lap as their lips moved against each other.   
  
Lumiere had stepped into the room, and right back out, unsurprised by the sight of the couple’s intimate embrace. Finding Belle and Adam in these sorts of _situations_ had become increasingly common with each day that passed since that fateful night seven days before.   
  
Still swept up in each other, they broke away for a moment, giggling like schoolkids, before brushing their lips together softly once more, ending in a final peck, Adam smiling against her.   
“What on Earth did I do to deserve you?” Adam said breathlessly as he pulled away from her, his blue eyes sparkling.   
Belle’s lips tugged up halfway in the teasing smile that he adored. “The library. Definitely the library,” she laughed, then moving a hand to his chest. “But also, this right here.”   
“My chest? It is quite broad. I can see the appeal.”   
Belle rolled her eyes. “Your heart, darling.” He considered feigning a gagging noise at the softness of her statement, but his eyes betrayed him, giving her a look of pure adoration. “Although it is a very sarcastic one,” she added as she moved off his lap and into her own chair.   
“I could say the same for you sometimes, mon amour,” he chuckled before freezing. “Wait, you said there were other dreams.”   
Belle cleared her throat.   
He grinned mischievously, scooting his chair closer to hers. “What exactly did we do in these dreams?”   
Belle shoved a strawberry into her mouth, muffling her response. Adam could barely detect the sentence _“nothing we’ve done yet.”_   
He snorted, wondering if he should seize the opportunity to be bold. He decided to simply say it as quietly as possible, wanting to tease her but not so much as to scare her.   
  
_“I suppose we’ll have to change that someday,”_ he said playfully under his breath, attempting to keep a straight face.   
The servants could hear Belle nearly choke on her tea and the laughter from the pair that followed all throughout the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!! I hope you liked this chapter!! I was a bit unsure about this one, I felt like the ending was a little weird - I wan't sure if it was flirty or creepy, but all of my lovely friends in the Headcanons and Trash Court chats on Discord told me it was cute, so here it is. 
> 
> For the jealousy prompt, I had trouble imagining Adam getting jealous in your typical, possessive way. I think he respects Belle too much and knows that she's not his property, and also that he trusts Belle enough to know she wouldn't disrespect him. So I wanted to put a twist on it. Hopefully this made sense :) 
> 
> If you write anything for the prompts, I'm sure I'll comment on it, but post it on Tumblr and tag me in it or send it to me so I can reblog it!! http://danstevensgrowl.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Additional comment: I accidentally posted prompt two a day early bc I'm an idiot that forgot that since I posted prompt one early, I have to wait until June 2nd to post my next prompt. Oops.


	3. midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having trouble falling asleep, Belle wanders to the library in the middle of the night and unexpectedly runs into the exact person she'd been thinking about.

**_midnight_ **

 

Several nights after the Beast had taken her to Paris, Belle found herself wandering through the hallways whilst everyone else in the castle slept. She’d felt too wired, too full of energy to sleep - and every time she did, she’d find herself waking up with a strange sense of longing, one that almost made her anxious with the need for  _ something. _ The need to break the curse, the need to talk to the Beast - these were all things she somehow yearned for, and she couldn’t tell if she ever had before. 

 

And there was also the dreams. The dreams always woke her, but not in the way her childhood nightmares had. They woke her in a way that was almost saddening, like getting halfway through a book to discover five pages were missing. Usually, the dreams escaped her memory before she had the chance to ponder them, and a part of her was grateful to be spared of the inevitable psychological analyzation she’d perform on herself because of them. She didn’t want to think about who or how or why, she just wanted to go back to sleep. 

 

This night in particular, though, sleep seemed impossible. So, candelabra in hand, (but not a living one - they were all asleep, unlike her) she made her way towards the library, hoping a couple of poems would ease her to sleep. When she opened the towering doors, she was surprised to find a tall figure standing in front of the bookshelves in the dark, a few candles lit on a table behind him.    
  
She had yet to figure out his name, and she wasn’t sure how to address him. She didn’t want to startle him, though, and she stood there for a moment, thinking of what she could call out to alert him of her presence. She was about to just settle for “hello” when he turned around, taking a sharp breath in.    
“Belle,” he said her name in such a desperate way, like as if he’d been standing there waiting for her all night. He then shook his head at himself a bit, noticing the tone of his voice had been less than subtle. “You’re awake,” he stated.    
“Yes, I’m afraid I can’t sleep. I can go, though, if you want to be alone-”   
“No, it’s….it’s quite alright,” he stuttered.    
She smiled and moved next to him as he placed what he had been reading on the shelf.    
“How can you know where to put it without light? You’re going to mess up our system,” she scolded, though her tone was still lighthearted.    
He smiled at her use of  _ “our,” _ marveling at the way she’d recently begun to speak of them as a unit, a pair. It was  _ their _ system,  _ their _ library.  _ Their home. _ “Magic, I suppose. It’s in the right place, I can assure you.”    
She raised a brow skeptically, the warm glow from her candelabra just reaching the highest points of her cheekbones. She was strikingly beautiful in the darkness, in such a simultaneously soft and mysterious way - he knew her face like no other, yet in the darkness he could see the hollows of her collarbones so much more prominently. When he realized he’d been observing her for far too long, he abruptly turned away.    
  
She scanned the bookshelf, not seeming at all bothered by how he’d gazed at her a moment before, settling on Shakespeare’s sonnets and taking a seat on the couch nearby.    
He stood frozen in place, unsure of whether or not he should leave.    
She wondered how to invite him to sit with her, but somehow it felt like something was dancing in the pit of her stomach at the thought. She decided to ask him to read for her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she just wanted to hear his voice, but she dismissed it, telling herself she was simply too exhausted to gaze at the pages in the dark.    
  
“Would you like to read to me? I’m quite tired, I’m not sure I can make it through an entire page,” she laughed sleepily.   
He seemed confused and surprised by her request, wondering how not making it through an entire page would be a bad scenario if she was trying to ease herself to sleep in the first place. However, he knew how fortunate he was that she was even asking, and decided he would over analyze later.    
  
He sat down next to her, the edge book he’d previously placed on the couch piercing his thigh. He lifted it, placing it on his lap out of the way.    
Belle’s eyes lit up in the darkness, and he almost groaned, knowing he’d intrigued her. This, unfortunately, was not something he felt like discussing.    
“What’s that?” She questioned, as if on cue.    
“It’s nothing, you don’t need to concern yourself with it,” he said gruffly, coming off rougher than intended. “Shall I begin?” He asked, his voice softer as he flipped to the sonnet he knew was likely her favorite, observing the bend in the corner of the page. 

  
Her expression immediately looked more alert, and he knew the curiosity would keep her awake all night. He relented, placing the small book of sonnets on the table next to him and pulling the larger book off his lap. “Alright,” he conceded, opening to a specific page.    
  
She looked closely at it, surprised to find they were simply documents.    
“Happy?” he muttered.   
“What are these? Are these the names of the people that have lived in this castle?”   
“Not quite. These are my relatives.”    
“Your relatives?”   
“I couldn’t remember my great aunt’s name, and it was bothering me, the same way it bothers you when you can’t remember a certain word,” he noted, remembering just the day before when Belle struggled to remember the term “impertinent.”   
She smiled at the comment, her eyes moving from the list of royal names to his eyes, a perfectly human shade of blue. In his portraits, his eyes were so princely and piercing, almost god-like. While they were certainly strikingly beautiful in person, they were so much softer. They weren’t raging crashing waves or a storm, they were the sky on a summer’s day - deep and airy all at once. Her eyes widened when a sudden realization dawned on her. “Can I see that?” she asked quickly, and he nodded, passing it over to her. She flipped the pages, trying to find the most recent entry, and once her fingers ran down the print to the final name in the book, he realized what she was trying to do. 

“Nice try, but that’s my cousin. He’s ten years younger than me,” he commented.  
She frowned a bit, looking at the names before it, eventually giving up when none of them listed ages or anything that would indicate which one was his. “Why won’t you just tell me?”    
“I’ll tell you, but there’s no point in calling me by it. It’s not who I am anymore. If you must address me by something, address me as what I am.”   
She stared at his eyes, downcast towards the book, seeing the hint of sorrowful blue in them. This was not a beast before her, this was a man, a man cursed and in pain. She placed her small hand on his paw, squeezing it tightly. “You are not a beast.” she affirmed, her voice strong and genuine. 

  
He nearly sobbed, but he held it together, taking in a sharp breath and holding it as long as he could. When he exhaled, she was surprised by what spilled out.    
“Adam. My name is Adam.”   
  


Her lips pulled up into a contagiously incandescent smile. It was one that spread across Adam’s visage as well, one he couldn’t conceal as he read sonnets to her for the rest of the night, even after she’d fallen asleep at his side.


	4. bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming down from the excitement of their first night as husband and wife, Belle and Adam relax in the bath. Slightly NSFW?? (there's not really any sex, but idk. I brought the rating up just to be safe.) 
> 
> (also bonus points if you know what fic takes place before this that I definitely did not publish on a separate account)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slightly NSFW so I've changed the rating to M, although it's really not a big deal haha.

**_bath_ **

 

Adam and Belle had simply been laying in each other’s arms for a considerable amount of time when Belle shifted uncomfortably, the bliss wearing off and the ache in her feet from dancing all night becoming much more prominent. Her pointed heels and wedding dress were still discarded on the floor, and the candles that had been lit at the end of the evening had now melted halfway down.   
“I think we may have had a bit too much fun, my love,” she giggled, stretching.    
“Are you alright? Are you in pain?” He panicked, guilt flooding his eyes, immediately running his hands across her figure, searching for bruises or any area he may have been a bit too rough with.   
She softly hit his chest. “No, you silly man. I meant dancing. I’m fairly certain I wore my shoes all the way through,” she stated, moving her hand across his bare chest, noting the smoothness that wasn’t there just a month ago when she’d had her first dance with him.

“Ah, well that’s a relief. I’d hate to have exhausted you too much,” he teased before rising from the bed.    
  
She sat up, pulling the covers he’d just been under around him - they still seemed to radiate his warmth - and admired her husband as he walked into the bathroom.    
  
Her husband. She pondered this for a second, resisting the urge to laugh or cry or grin ear or all of the above. It seemed cliche to dwell on just how surprising life can be, but she truly was in awe of the way her life had changed since she’d first come to the castle seven months before.  _ “Who’d have ever thought that this could be?” _ she whispered, mainly to herself, before collapsing back down onto the mattress, burrowing deeper into the warmth.    
_ “Darling,” _ Adam called, and she could hear the bathwater running in the distance. Her heart still raced and melted all at once whenever he used terms of endearment - love, darling, mon amour. He’d found himself becoming more comfortable expressing just how besotted he was with her with every day that had passed since the curse broke. Every embrace, every kiss, every time she’d found herself in the West Wing at midnight, unable to sleep, and he held her close, stroking her hair and whispering how much he loved her. She always marveled at how soft the man behind the Beast that had once seemed so fearsome truly was. Underneath the fangs, or even just the sarcastic demeanor, there was a man even more enchanting than the Prince Charmings in all her favorite fairy tales. There was a deep, endless adoration, beyond appearance or time or hope. There was an unconditional, selfless love, one she’d never found in her books. In the seven months since she’d first arrived at the castle, she found herself pulling her nose out of them more often to look at him.    
  
She rose to join him in the bathroom, dragging the sheets with her, wrapping them modestly around her. She found him sitting in the back of the large bath, patting his hand down on the empty space in front of him. “The warm water should help,” he explained.    
She let the sheets drop, a sly smile painting her face. “Liar. You just wanted an excuse for me to drop these blankets,” she quipped.    
He smirked as she placed herself in front of him, the water already almost halfway up her waist. He wrapped his arms around her, resting her head on his shoulder as the warmth of the water and the warmth of her body enveloped her in such an immensely blissful way - all she could think of was how it felt like the days they’d spent in the sun since the curse broke, like the nights they spent reading by the fireplace before it broke, how Adam seemed to always just be so  _ warm _ \- how life before him seemed like winter in comparison.    
  
He felt the same way for her, although for him it was less of a metaphor and more a literal state of being. Sure, poetically, he was trapped in an eternal winter, constant blizzard of his own torment, but the castle was also always literally covered in snow. Until Belle came, that is, and melted every surface of the castle grounds and of him, tore down every icy wall until all that remained was pure, utter warmth. 

 

Belle drifted off quickly in Adam’s arms, feeling safer than she ever thought possible, and he struggled to stay awake, partially so that he could turn the water off when the bath was full, but mainly because he wanted to savor every second of the life he never even imagined having with Belle. He pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder at the thought, following with a more firm one to her neck, running his hands across her arm and waist. She hummed softly before twisting her neck around to place a slow, sleepy kiss on his neck first, then one to his lips. Taking their time at first, their lips brushed languidly against each other, until eventually they were moving desperately against each other. She found herself becoming much less sleepy at the feeling, and the warmth moved through her even more, and it quickly escalated, blazing and burning, becoming fire for the third time that night.    
  
Adam certainly wasn’t complaining.


	5. leather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Belle learns Adam's name in the library, she contemplates the man beneath the fur and the prince of a fellow deep inside of him.

**leather**

 

Belle awoke to harsh sunlight, something that had coincidentally been falling against the castle at dawn much more frequently since Belle and the Beast became friends. Actually, perhaps it wasn’t coincidental - Belle had found it suspicious, really. Her eyes scrunched in confusion at the warmth against her face, knowing she’d shut her curtains last night. She became more aware of the senses around her - the smell of old parchment, cool leather beneath her body, and the left side of her pressed against something soft, like... 

 

_ Fur. _

 

It all came back to her now. The dreams waking her. The library, the Beast - no,  _ Adam _ \- Adam reading to her as she fell asleep. She’d curled up against him in a way that probably rendered him incapable of moving without waking her, and she smiled softly at the fact that he’d probably stayed for that reason. His chest rising and falling slowly, she sat up just a bit, observing him.  _ “He’s going to be uncomfortable when he wakes,” _ she thought to herself, noting the stiff position he’d fallen asleep in, his neck curved towards the edge of the couch, but he was far too tall to actually rest his head on it, so it just hung lazily against his shoulder.    
  
She took the chance to do something she’d always been curious about, knowing that they’d probably only been asleep a few hours and he was (hopefully) too exhausted to be woken easily. She raised her hand slowly before placing it on his jaw, feeling the bone structure underneath his fur. She’d always thought that behind the hair, maybe there was still the face of a man - something about his face seemed so human, despite how tall and broad his frame was. His shoulders may have extended widely enough to cover Belle’s body twice, but his face - she somehow thought that if she lifted the fur, she’d find ivory skin underneath.    
  
She traced her fingers along the rest of his face now, feeling the bridge of his nose, the highest points of his cheekbones. She shut her eyes, trying to imagine what he looked like in person rather than paint strokes, both with the memory of his portraits and what she could feel underneath her touch. She saw an undeniably handsome man - but not so much as to be unattainable or intimidating, his hair loose around his shoulders and his eyebrows a little perturbed. However, the rest of his features certainly were princely - a long, royal nose and high, elegant cheekbones that rivaled even some of the sculptures she’d heard were in Paris. Her brows furrowed as she continued to picture him, finding that she didn’t even care that much about how attractive he once was. When she opened her eyes and saw a beast before her, she wasn’t disappointed or horrified by the change. If anything, she saw no difference.    
  
Beneath the fur was not a handsome prince, nor was it an animal. Beneath the fur was Adam, the man who saved her life, who read her sonnets as she fell asleep, who threw snowballs her and ate with her, who infuriated her on a daily basis with his impossibly snobby taste in books. But the monster did not bother her. To her, the monster did not exist, nor did the prince.    
  
It was just Adam that she held onto as she slipped back into a comfortable sleep, basking in the warmth radiating off of him on her left side and the coolness of the leather sofa on her back, her mind finally abandoning dreams of the prince or nightmares of the beast and allowing her to simply be with Adam.


	6. first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam takes his first trip to the village in twenty years.

**_first_ **

 

Unsurprisingly enough, Adam had never been to the village. Well, not as an adult. He does remember that his mother often took him to Villeneuve on her trips throughout the province to check on the people. Sometimes they’d grab some fresh jam from the merchants, the people of Villeneuve may have not been the most educated but they certainly knew how to make jam. Adam remembered being fascinated by the simplicity of the life there, how no one seemed stressed like Cogsworth or sad like his mother or angry like his father. They may have seemed a little bit bored, but they seemed safe.    
  
He remember skipping across the rocks on a lake one day, his last time in the village with his mother, thinking about what life would be like as a commoner. He would be bored, he knew. He needed dancing, traveling, excitement - he couldn’t imagine himself living everyday the exact same way. However, he wondered if he would be happy spending just one day in that life, away from the whispering from his grandfather of how Adam would always be too soft, too kind to do any good for his country, or the yelling from his father of how he would always be too weak, too emotional.    
  
He’d observed a little girl reading one day as he contemplated that, tangled light brown hair framing her small face. He didn’t think anyone in the village knew how to read, and he almost approached her, before his mother grabbed him by the hand and led him back to the carriage.   
  
_ “Maybe being a commoner wouldn’t be so bad if I knew someone like her,” _ he had thought to himself. From that day on, the young prince had dreamed of what it might be like to escape, just for a week. Put on simple clothes, live in a cabin nearby, and just stroll through the village, observing the humble life it offered.    
  
On one particular day, a week before his wedding, Adam sat at his desk in the West Wing, his fingers tightly pinching his nose, resting his head against his knuckles. He barely heard the knock at the door, and Belle walked in, assuming he was decent (although if she was being perfectly honest, didn’t really care if he wasn’t.)    
“Did you sleep at all last night?” Belle questioned, her voice careful but concerned. She knew he’d procrastinated his paperwork all week to spend time by her side, and he was left to finish everything the previous night while she slept. It was probably the first night in weeks she hadn’t snuck into the West Wing when no one was watching. She knew not to distract him.   
He groaned, barely mumbling a “no” as he shut his eyes.    
She placed her hands on his shoulders, then running her hands up and down his upper arms. “Come to bed, Adam. Get some rest,” she soothed.    
“I couldn’t if I wanted to, Belle. I’m exhausted, but at the same time I’m wired with stress.”    
She hummed in response, thinking. “Would you like to take a break, get some fresh air? I’m going to meet Papa in the village. I left one of my notebooks at the cottage. Perhaps you could see the village?” she offered.    
Adam mentally deliberated the thought. He hadn’t been to the village at all since the curse had been broken. Hell, he hadn’t been to the village since his mother was alive. Although he had seen them all after the curse broke in front of the castle, he was so exhilarated, in such a state of bewilderment at Belle breaking the curse and saving his life, his mind was far too occupied for the guilt to take over when he looked in their eyes. He may have spent the past ten years repenting for what he’d done, but it would never feel like it was enough. However, the warmth of Belle’s brown eyes beckoned him to follow her wherever she went, and he agreed, rising slowly from his chair.    
  
Adam’s first time to the village in twenty years had been surprisingly pleasant. The villagers had certainly greeted him with surprise, but not with disdain or resentment. Dressed in a simple white blouse, brown vest and brown breeches, he didn’t look at all like the selfish prince that held balls paid for by their taxes, but like the kind boy that had bought jam from them so many years ago. He shook their hands, no matter how much charcoal or dirt may have been on them, and every time Adam tensed up with memories of his own mistakes, Belle gently squeezed his hand or placed a kiss to his palm. 

 

He also saw Belle’s home, a modest but comfortable cottage adorned with sketches and paintings on nearly every inch of the walls. He explored Belle’s bookshelf, only with about five books that Maurice had brought from Paris when they’d escaped the plague and one she’d forgotten to return to Pere Robert. The rest of the shelf was filled with notebooks, sketchbooks and diaries, an endless stream of pages full of the mind and creativity and consciousness of the woman he loved. While she’d only planned to retrieve one, he insisted they load all of them into a trunk and bring them back to the castle, hoping he could sneak a peek at a few sometime when she wasn’t paying attention.    
  
They took tea with Maurice at the small dining table in the kitchen, and Adam wondered what life with Belle would be like in a cottage like this. He knew she’d hate it, and with time, he might too, but he couldn’t help but think it would be nice for a least a little while. They could have adventure one day, and a simple life the next. He decided he’d ask Cogsworth if it was possible to build a small cottage near the castle that they could escape to when everything felt like too much.   
  
As they left the cottage, Belle hugging her father and waving goodbye to the chickens (which Adam thought was possibly the most endearing thing he’d ever seen), they walked to the carriage, which was parked in the grass at the end of the street. His hand in hers as they walked, when they reached the end of the block, he froze, his grip loosening.    
“What is it, Adam?” she asked, following his gaze towards a tall tree to the left. It stood upright, proud, isolated from the forest, a single tree amidst the grass. She remembered she used to sit beneath it as a child, wondering if it knew how she felt when she was amongst the villagers.    
“The last time I was here, I saw a little girl there. She seemed like she was about five years old.” Adam stated in such an obvious tone, Belle realized what he was implying.    
“Me. You saw me. I’d just learned to read with a small picture book,” she beamed up at him.    
“I wanted to go talk to you, you know. I wanted to sit with you and see what you were reading. You were so young, and I didn’t think the villagers read at all to begin with.”   
“They didn’t. I wish you had. What stopped you?” she asked.    
“My mother, she wanted to go home early. Now that I realize it, I don’t think she was feeling well,” Adam gulped, his chest tightening at the memory.   
Belle wrapped her arm around his, entwining her fingers with his tightly as they walked side by side towards the tree. They sunk down onto the ground, resting against the tree as Belle pulled out a copy of Hamlet.    
“I don’t suppose we have the time to read here today?” he asked, knowing she’d wanted to get back to the castle by sundown to read to chip.    
“We have all the time in the world, my love.” she answered, and before looking over his shoulder to see if there were any prying eyes, he placed a soft kiss to his fiancee’s lips before they parted and read his favorite play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!! As you can tell, I got a little bit specific with Adam's age and timeline stuff in this fic. I've actually created my own theory about how long Adam was under the curse, and how old he is by the time it ends. To sum it all up, I think that time passed much slower in the castle, so while Adam was only "missing" for five years, he was cursed for ten, thus making him thirty when the curse is broken. You can read more about it here: http://danstevensgrowl.tumblr.com/post/161418424525/since-ive-been-writing-a-lot-of-fics-lately-and 
> 
> I just got a new job, so I'm going to try my best to keep up with this. Comments definitely encourage me!! To everyone who's been commenting lately, you have no idea how much that means to me, thank you for your support <3


	7. bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a rough couple of nights with a fever that had resulted from his wounds from the wolf chase, the Beast wakes to find Belle still at his side.

**_bright_ **

 

The Beast woke in his bed after several hours of sleep to nearly blinding sunlight. As much as he wanted to admit to himself how much hope it gave him to see that the sun was shining brightly over the castle for the first time in nine years, he was far too annoyed by how his eyes were no longer adjusted to the brightness of it all. He opened his eyes carefully, squinting, barely making out the figure sitting beside him.   
  
_Belle._   
  
He remembered now, the wolf chase, Belle cleaning his wounds, him developing a fever hours later in his sleep. She had been sitting on a chair by his bed earlier, but at some point, she’d moved onto his bed.   
  
His heart nearly stopped at the realization, and her small hand clutched a rag, slowly moving it towards his forehead. She pressed the cool cloth against him, and he smiled - not at the feeling, although it certainly helped with the discomfort - but at her. 

 

He’d known from the moment he saw her small silhouette entering the castle grounds she was beautiful. There was no denying that.    
  
However, the beauty he saw before him caused him to completely reevaluate just what beauty is - this young woman, who he’d screamed at, frightened, imprisoned and driven away was now sitting beside him as if he were her dearest friend, a soft smiling attempting to mask the concern in her eyes as she placed the back of her hand where the cloth had been, feeling his temperature. Before he even realized what he was doing, he smiled back weakly.    
“I think your fever has broken, but you’ll need to keep resting. We can’t risk it coming back,” she stated, mainly to herself.    
He wanted to nod, but felt too exhausted, and tried to smile once more - this time consciously, on purpose. It became easier to pull the corners of his lips up just a little bit more when he realized that she spoke of the possibility of his fever coming back as if it was something she wanted to avoid, as if she wasn’t wishing the fever would come back even more dangerously than the previous time and render him too weak to fight if she tried to run.    
Little did she know he wouldn’t stop her, and his brows furrowed deeply at the thought.    
_ He wouldn’t stop her. _   
She looked at him as though the fever made him delirious, shaking her head in awe.    
Her face was the last thing he saw before he slipped back into a light sleep, although he could have sworn he heard her voice echoing through his dreams, quoting - what was that? Shakespeare? In his dreams, she sat by him in the colonnade, the sun shining down onto his skin, which was no longer covered in fur but a loose white blouse, allowing the warmth to trickle down his back. They read and laughed and her golden brown hair almost looked like it had tinsel tangled in it as the sunlight danced upon the lighter strands. She was utterly golden, and not just in her appearance. In her heart.    
She had become everything he needed in that moment. Light. Life.    
_ “She is the sun,” _ he’d whispered to himself in his dream, not realizing Belle was reciting a similar line beside him, a hand on his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo boy this one was hard. I couldn't think of something for "bright" that I hadn't already sort of done - in case you haven't noticed, metaphors relating to the sun have unfortunately become a common theme in these fics. However, I was thinking about that one moment in Days in the Sun when the sun shines so brightly it causes a glare before it shows the Beast smiling while Belle presses a cloth to his forehead. Also, in case you haven't noticed, this is totally canon - she was sitting on his bed in that scene. Small detail, but it makes my heart melt nonetheless. 
> 
> Like I said, I'm going to try my best to keep up with this, but unfortunately, I'm already a little bit behind schedule. Hopefully I can write a ton more tonight so I won't feel rushed!


	8. hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Adam and Belle greet the villagers, Adam sneaks away to the West Wing to have a moment to catch his breath, and of course, Belle follows.

**_hands_ **

 

Adam quite literally could not keep his hands off Belle.    
  
Alright, perhaps that was an exaggeration - Adam was certainly capable of keeping his hands off Belle in the moments after the curse had been broken, but he didn’t care to.    
  
He needed her touch for so many reasons. He could barely begin to count them all before they walked to greet the villagers outside, her hand gripping his tightly. After Adam had a moment with Lumiere, they reunited as they spoke to everyone, and she rubbed her thumb across the palm of his left hand, her right arm wrapped completely about his.    
  
The villagers, far too happy about reuniting with their family and friends, paid no mind to the slightly scandalous sight of Belle and their prince in their undergarments, their sides completely adjacent, leaving no space between the pair.    
  
Once Adam had spoken to everyone he wished to, he excused himself to go to the West Wing and change, and Belle followed quickly behind him. Only Mrs. Potts noticed Belle scurry quickly to catch up with him, but all she could do was smile at her prince, her boy, finally himself again, smiling and laughing - things she had not thought him capable of in recent years. Not until the beautiful girl following behind him had arrived at the castle. Not until she came and saved them all. Mrs. Potts decided they certainly deserved a few minutes alone, and this was without the knowledge of Adam’s death just minutes before.    
  
Adam was caught up in a whirlwind of emotions, hardly noticing the soft but swift footsteps behind him as he made his way towards the West Wing. Once he’d made his way into the room, feeling foreign in the now bright, shining palace, he crumbled to his knees, facing in the direction of where he’d just been laying cold moments ago.    
  
Before his brain could register what was happening, he felt arms enveloping him from behind, a particularly pointy chin on his shoulder, pressing a firm kiss to his jaw before patting his ribs to guide him to face her.    
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” she said knowingly.    
He gave an exhausted laugh, more of a frantic, broken exhale than anything. “You have no idea. Or, I suppose you have some,” he replied.    
“It’s certainly a lot to take in. Not necessarily the sight of you, I knew your face from the portraits, but the servants, the castle - everything is so different,” she said breathlessly, her voice full of wonder. “Not to mention, I was sure I’d lost you forever just a moment ago,” she added, her eyes glistening with tears as she stroked his cheek. Somehow, he already had the subtlest bit of stubble along the edges of his jaw. She placed her lips where her hand had been, kissing the soft areas and rougher areas and feeling him in every way she could without being too improper. Of course, the  _ other _ ways of feeling him would have to wait - not only until it was the proper time, but until they were ready.    
He brought her into his lap, wanting her as close as possible as they held onto each other on the floor.    
“I can’t imagine how this is for you, though. You’re an entirely different shape,” she continued after a period of silence. “I know you’re tall, but you almost seem short in comparison to your former frame.”    
He laughed at this, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. She placed her hands over his, turning them up and tracing her fingers along his palms, staring down at them in wonder. “You’ve got room to talk. You can’t even reach most of the books in the library without me,” he teased, causing her to look up back at him.    
“The bookshelves in that library are taller than my entire cottage stacked on top itself twice,” she responded, looking directly into his eyes. She found it slightly harder to argue with him when his crystal blue eyes met with hers, but she managed.   
“You can’t even reach the third shelf and you know it.”    
She giggled, a sound so soft and light and airy she’d never quite expected to see the day it escaped from her mouth, before moving into him, kissing him once more. Amidst overwhelming excitement, she felt her heart swell to realize her witty, infuriating Adam was exactly the same as he was just the day before. They stayed like this for a while in an embrace, Adam running his hands up and down her arms and back, exploring the feeling of his bare skin upon hers. She reveled in his touch, wondering how she ever could have survived without it. 


	9. smile

**_smile_**   
  
  


When Belle awoke in Adam’s arms the morning after the curse had broken, she couldn’t stop her lips from immediately tugging up into a blissful smile at the feeling of his arms around her. She backed up a bit, pushing her back against his chest a bit more, and she felt him curl up behind her, his grip on her tightening a bit, pulling her as close as possible. He sighed before pressing a kiss to her neck, and she could feel him smiling through it.    
“We should probably get you back in your room before Mrs. Potts comes in,” Adam mumbled, yet his actions contradicted his words as he continued to press kisses to her shoulder. He was being bold, he knew - they’d only had their first kiss the day before, for God’s sake - but he was far too sleepy to be shy or even rational.   
“Oh, please, Mrs. Potts would hardly mind. We’re perfectly clothed. Nothing happened that I think shouldn’t have been expected,” Belle commented.    
“Oh, really?” he grinned mischievously, pulling at her waist so she would turn to face him.    
She smirked a bit, continuing to taunt him by not replying. As she traced her fingers along the familiar shape of his jaw, her smile fell. There was a moment of silence between the two, an acknowledgment that this was real, that they were lying here together, despite all that had happened.    
“Please don’t make me leave,” she pleaded in such a desperate tone, he protectively tucked her head underneath his chin immediately.    
“Never again, my love. Whatever we do, we’ll do together, as long as you want me to,” he promised before kissing her forehead and scooting down the bed to face her again, his eyes level with hers now. “I’m assuming you’ll want to sleep in here again tonight, won’t you?” he guessed.    
She smiled sheepishly, looking down at her hand in his. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me? You said ‘just this once.’”   
He grinned, undeniably, irrevocably awestruck at just how much had changed in the past day. “I lied,” he chuckled, knowing that they’d survived much worse things, propriety could never stop them from being together, at least just in this way for now. They drifted back to sleep as the sun rose, Mrs. Potts entering the room to wake the Prince, and as Belle had predicted, she was not at all surprised to find the two lovers wrapped up in each other. More than that, she was happy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo whaddup I’ve officially kind of given up on these prompts. I was going to give up completely, because I’ve been going through a rough time lately (not to mention I currently have the flu AND my birthday is in two days) and I feel like my most recent one shots have sucked, however I saw a comment on the last chapter that said “please don’t stop” and another from the user telepathy that said it was their favorite thus far and I was SHOOK bc I thought it sucked. so, I kind of give up, but not really: I’m going to just write the ones that inspire me from now on, so I’ll probably write about five more. I don’t want to push myself bc of the mess that my life has been lately, I feel like if I do they just honestly suck and are so poorly written (which is honestly how I feel about this chapter and the one before it) and keep having the same themes as previous chapters. However I’m so honored that people actually like these, so I’ll try to write a few more :) thank you all so much for the encouragement, you have no idea how much it means to me. I would’ve totally given up if it wasn’t for your support, so thank you!! 
> 
> also, comments definitely do encourage me to try a little harder to keep going, even if I do skip a few ;)


	10. rejection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Belle discuss her previous suitor.

  ** _rejection_**

 

_ “Exactly how many times did you reject Gaston?”  _   
  
Adam had dared to finally ask Belle the question - partly in a joking manner, mainly out of genuine curiosity - a week before their wedding when the pair were relaxing in the library. They’d originally planned to spend the rest of the afternoon reading, but Adam was rather talkative (as he typically was around Belle) and one thing led to another until he was all but demanding Belle spew out random stories from her childhood.    
  
She was more than happy to comply, of course, if he did the same for her, but unfortunately the only good parts of his childhood he was far too young to remember clearly at this point. Shifting the somber tone, Belle decided to joke about Gaston’s endeavours in pursuing her - only the most iconic moments, of course, considering his proposals were a regular occurence.    
  
“Well, let’s see...I was seventeen the first time he did it, and he did it a few more times that year. They became more frequent as I got older, though, until right before I’d met you, he must have been doing it twice a month on average,” Belle said.    
  
Adam nearly spit out his tea laughing. “And how many months did this occur?” Adam asked.   
“Oh, at least nine,” she replied. 

He laughed for a few moments before his lips tugged up into a smug smile.    
“What? What is it?” she questioned.   
“Oh, nothing, I was just thinking...you said ‘yes’ to me the first time,” he smirked.    
She snorted, but her cheeks betrayed her nonchalant response by immediately flushing. She looked down at the floor, then looked back up at him as she scooted closer to him on the couch. “Do you want me to revoke my acceptance of your proposal, then? We can go at this for the next ten years if that’s so much more interesting to you,” she quipped teasingly.    
He quickly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, pressing his forehead to hers. “No, I think I’ve been rather lucky, I really shouldn’t jinx it,” he whispered. His smile was playful, but his eyes shone with affection and wonder, revealing that he truly was in awe that the woman in his arms was his. His eyes darted to the door to check for witnesses before he pulled her into a deep kiss, his lips moving passionately against hers. She sunk into him moaning, her limbs seeming to lose their strength, and if he hadn’t been holding her tightly against him she may have just fallen back against the arm of the couch. He pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him, wanting her as close as possible, and they kissed each other more frantically before Adam abruptly broke away from her, gasping. She sighed in disappointment. He gave her one last peck, and she found it difficult not to smile against his lips.    
“Soon, my love,” he murmured before kissing her cheek, her jaw, behind her ear.    
She exhaled deeply before responding. “One more week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH GUYS. I’m SO overwhelmed (in the best way) by your responses to my announcement last chapter! I seriously didn’t anticipate that many people saying they’d miss my work. I’m in awe, honestly. I’ve decided I’m going to do my best to catch up - I skipped “sand” because that one honestly had me stuck. I decided it was best to skip it rather than to give up on all the other ones. Thank you all so much not only for the support and love for my writing, but the well wishes regarding my current life and whatnot. I did have a great birthday...Dan actually replied to me during his Twitter Q&A! Made my entire year, tbh. And I’m still kind of sick, but it’s all good. No more sore throat so I’m not complaining. 
> 
> But yeah. Thank you all for the love. You all are so kind. I seriously can’t thank you enough. I would’ve given up if it wasn’t for you! <3 also, I know these chapters are getting quite short, but I figure it’s better to post a little than nothing at all.


	11. dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shortly after their trip to Paris, Belle dreams of the Prince.

Belle knew it was a dream.

The colors were too saturated, the air around her too hazy, and yet, she didn’t care to change the blurry world around her, didn’t care to scrutinize the details or ask questions or beg for answers as her naturally curious spirit typically would.

Instead, she gave into the warmth around her - the yellow glow, the sunshine, the man holding her. She knew who it was - the Prince, the Beast - but he was now wearing a golden coat and breeches and it all seemed to melt into the sunshine surrounding them. She could faintly acknowledge him moving in towards her before he took her lips in his, holding the back of her head tenderly with one hand and pulling her waist closer with the other. She felt like she was drowning in gold, like the rays of sunlight bouncing off the Prince’s jacket were dripping down her, and she wanted nothing more than to just submit, to not fight it. She wanted to let herself sink. To let herself fall. As she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, the warmth around her faded before she felt herself slipping away.

When she awoke in her quarters, the room feeling so much colder than usual, she remembered for a brief second - and in that second, she knew - she hadn’t wanted to wake up. When she heard Mrs. Potts entering the room moments later, she immediately pushed her dream down, knowing it was too complicated, too much. Her feelings were both surprising and obvious to herself and she didn’t know how to face the fact that she was falling. More than that, she was letting herself.

And a final realization: she didn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you couldn’t tell, this is the dream Belle was talking about in the second prompt, jealousy ;) also I apologize for how short this is but like I said in the last chapter, a short one shot is better than nothing right?


	12. dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle runs into Mrs. Potts in the kitchen, and they discuss her fiancé.

**_dessert_**   
  
  


Belle stumbled into the kitchen two mornings before her wedding half-asleep, not sure where she was going or where she wanted to be. Naturally, she began to move towards the West Wing, her thoughts always going to Adam, even when she was barely conscious. The sun had barely begun to rise, and although normally she’d be awake an hour from this point anyway, she hadn’t slept at all, and the images her eyes saw took a few more moments than usual to register in her mind.   
  
When she saw Mrs. Potts, she was confused. Where was she? She thought she was going to find Adam.    
  
“Oh, Belle! What are you doing walking around this early?” Mrs. Potts inquired, wiping her flour-covered hands onto a towel before moving to Belle, placing her hands on her shoulders. “Are you alright, dear?”    
“Oh yes, I’m afraid I just haven’t slept at all tonight,” Belle confessed wearily, her voice laced with exhaustion.    
“Oh my, why is that? Is everything alright?” Mrs. Potts asked, concerned for the young girl.    
“I’m honestly just nervous,” Belle admitted. “I feel a great deal of comfort with Adam. He’s my greatest partner, and I feel as though I’ve known him all my life. Yet, there’s also the inescapable…” Belle trailed off, not sure how to describe the way her heart raced so fast you’d think it wasn’t beating at all whenever Adam stole a kiss or placed his hands on her.    
“Butterflies?” Mrs. Potts suggested.    
Belle laughed. “Yes, I do think that’s a good way to describe it,” she agreed.    
“The Master loves you, you know. More than I think I’ve ever seen anyone love anything, apart from Lumiere and Plumette, or Cogsworth and his rules. You have nothing to worry about,” Mrs. Potts assured.    
Belle smiled before weakly leaning against the kitchen counter behind her. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Perhaps if I exhaust myself enough I can get a few hours of sleep in before Adam wakes up,” Belle offered.    
  
Belle and Mrs. Potts kneaded the dough for that evening’s desserts together, although in her exhaustion Belle left quite a mess behind. Flour coated the counters and was dusted in her hair, a touch of it on her cheekbone. Mrs. Potts giggled when she noticed.    
“You two really are a pair,” Mrs. Potts muttered to herself grinning.    
“What do you mean?”   
“I remember when the Master was a little boy, he’d sneak into the kitchens to try and have a lick of a spoon or something small like that. He’d always somehow end up with flour on him. We’d try to catch him and clean him up before he scurried out the door, but he always escaped before we could do anything. One time he left a trail of flour out the door,” Mrs. Potts chuckled.    
Belle smiled. “I hope he didn’t cause too much trouble, though,” she teased, her eyes shining with adoration for her fiance.    
“Even if he had, we all loved him even more for it. He was the light of this castle,” Mrs. Potts recounted fondly.    
There was a moment of silence before Mrs. Potts looked at Belle, grabbing her hands. “He is once again, too. All thanks to you. You brought back the light inside him. That boy is like another son to me, and I can’t thank you enough not just for saving all of us, but for saving him,” her voice cracked as her eyes watered a bit.    
Belle pulled her into a hug, holding the woman who in the past seven months had become a mother to her tightly, getting flour all over her back. When she finally let go, she realized the mess she’d made on Mrs. Potts clothes.    
“No dessert for me tonight, I’m afraid I don’t deserve it,” Belle laughed, gesturing to a nearby mirror where the former teapot could see the white powder all around her back.    
Mrs. Potts only beamed at Belle with affection. “No, I think it’ll be extra desserts tonight. For the girl that broke the spell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!! I was in New York for a bit and then I went to the beach. I really needed all of that bc I'm feeling a lot better :) I'm going to try to finish these prompts, but it will definitely go through July haha. But hey, that just means you guys get fic for the prompts even longer! It doesn't have to end in June! It also means that I've procrastinated. A lot. Anyway, this chapter is Mrs. Potts and Belle bc I couldn't think of anything with Adam and Belle that someone else hasn't done. I know I kind of broke my flow of every chapter being Belle and Adam, but I love Mrs. Potts, so I hope you don't mind :)


	13. blanket

**_blanket_ **

 

The night after the Beast had given Belle the library, he roamed the hallways aimlessly, not sure where he belonged at this point. It was late, so Belle probably was no longer in the library, but he didn’t want to risk disturbing her. After a few more trips across the castle, he relented, walking through the tall doors to hopefully find a book to relax. Instead, he found Belle asleep on the couch, a book still open on top of her chest, her legs hanging lazily off the edge. She couldn’t be comfortable, he realized, and hesitantly, he moved towards her, looking closer. 

 Her features were noticeably more relaxed, and not just because she was sleeping. He knew something had changed in the past few hours, and he couldn’t help but feel a flash of hope rise inside him. He buried it before it had much power, though, moving away from the beautiful girl before him. As he walked out, he noticed a folded wine red blanket in the corner of the room on top of the table - one he’d really only used once, the combination of the fireplace and his fur didn’t really require much added warmth. He brought it over to her, draping it over her before picking her up slightly to shift her position on the couch, placing the book face down on the table next to her. He then tugged the corners of the blanket, tucking the edges around her carefully, leaving no chance of the blanket slipping off of her as she rolled around. The sight of the wine red against her pale skin and brown hair left him with a desperate ache in his chest. 

 As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew that in that moment there was nothing he wanted more than to curl up next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo whaddup my own fic just made me emotional bc in “midnight” hE LITERALLY DOES CURL UP NEXT TO HER!! I'm a hoe for foreshadowing (and then making it clear in the author's note that I was foreshadowing.) also this is ridiculously short but I didn't feel like dragging it on haha. the next chapter is MUCH longer, though, and I think you guys are going to like it. it's the probably the longest I've written since when I almost gave up on these prompts haha. it's SO angsty, so yeah. I'm excited to post it tomorrow :)


	14. tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few nights after Belle and the Beast go to Paris, Belle seeks comfort where she last expected she'd ever want to find it.

**_tears_ **

 

Adam had avoided Belle all day.   
  
After waking up on the couch in the library to find her gripping tightly onto him, despite the fur and enormous size of him, he’d allowed himself to revel in it for a moment, to bask in the wonder of living a moment he never thought he’d live. It was short-lived, however, because his mind reminded him that this moment didn’t have the meaning that it wanted to. That she wasn’t holding him because she loved him, that she was asleep and had moved around. That he was a Beast, and girls like her don’t hold Beasts.   
  
He’d moved off of her as carefully as possible before settling her down onto the couch gently, pulling the same blanket over her that he had the night after he’d given her the library. He mused again for a moment on the hopefulness waking up with Belle clutching to him had brought, thinking of how much had changed in the four months since he’d pulled that blanket over her and desperately wished he could join her under it.   
  
Once again, his thoughts were interrupted the minute his gaze shifted from Belle’s light brown hair, slightly messy from sleeping, to the claws that hovered over it. He’d stopped himself from brushing the strands out of her face.   
  
Now, he sat on his bed in the West Wing, trying not to focus on how chilly the air around him felt despite his fur and the fireplace in the background. Now that he knew what it was like to be touched by Belle, he realized how starved he was of human contact. It certainly didn’t help that even if he had been hugging and holding people all these years, he was in love with her, and he couldn’t even bring himself to let her wrap her arm around his without feeling insecure about the way her pale skin looked against the brown fur covering his arms.   
  
They had been pale once too. If only he could remember.   
  
He was almost able to fall asleep when he heard a knocking at the doors of the West Wing.   
  
None of the servants could knock that loudly. Most of them couldn’t knock at all.   
  
He immediately rose to his feet, rushing, knowing Belle was on the other side of the doors. When he opened them, he was shocked by the sight before him - Belle, strong Belle, had her arms wound tightly around her chest, her breaths shallow and her eyes red. A sob escaped her when she saw him, and she immediately crashed into him, attempting to wrap her small arms around him.   
“Belle?” he asked, his voice noticeably alarmed by the feeling of Belle’s body shaking against him.   
She stepped away, sniffling, taking a deep breath as if she was trying to hold in more sobs. “Can I come in?” she requested nervously, wiping a tear from her cheek.   
“Yes, of course, Belle. You’re always welcome,” he stammered, trying not to worry about what Mrs. Potts would think of Belle entering his chambers in the middle of the night.   
  
They sat down on the bed, staring at the wall, the balcony, anywhere but at each other for a considerable amount of time. Adam finally spoke, tentatively placing a large paw on her shoulder.   
“When you’re ready to talk, I’m here. If you don’t want to talk at all, that’s okay too. Just know that...that I care,” he spoke, his voice softer than he knew possible.   
A moment passed, Belle frozen next to him. “I suppose the whole thing with my mother finally sunk in,” she responded. “And I’m not necessarily upset about my mother. I know that especially compared to your situation, that would be rather silly. I never knew her. It’s more about my father. I just can’t believe he went through that.”   
Adam tensed at the mention of her father, guilt washing over him. If Belle noticed the shift in Adam’s posture, she did nothing to respond to it.   
“You have every right to be upset about your mother. You have every right to be upset about everything,” he commented. “Nothing you feel could ever be invalid to me. Even if I knew my mother longer, I wouldn’t dare compare our situations. I know you too well to assume you’re exaggerating or being overly melancholic. If anyone does that, it’s me.”   
She smiled, moving a few inches closer to him. “I never realized until now how afraid I am of that though,” she whispered.   
“Of what?”   
“Of losing someone. Of living the rest of my days knowing I can’t get them back, and knowing that I still love them just the same as I did when I last saw them,” she confessed.   
  
He was baffled by the statement. She’d already done that by taking her father’s place, hadn’t she? Granted, Adam no longer considered her a prisoner. He would tell her to go home the minute she asked to, but thankfully, she hadn’t asked, and he truthfully hoped she never would. He wondered if she knew this. If that maybe she was her because she wanted to be. If not, why wouldn’t she realized her greatest fear had already come true? If she thought she was a prisoner, she would think she’d never see her father again. Adam contemplated this for a long moment before Belle broke the silence.   
“I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought about what memories this might bring back for you. With your mother, and all,” she apologized.   
His heart softened at her empathy, his lips curling up into a sad smile. “Please don’t apologize. I honestly hadn’t been thinking about that at all,” he admitted.   
Belle raised an eyebrow, but he gave no further explanation.   
“You were crying. I’ve never seen you cry,” he stated. “You can cry if you need to, Belle. I won’t judge you. I’ll forget all about it after tonight, if you like,” he assured.   
She smiled, and she wanted to let it all go again, but she wasn’t sure how. She was so used to being strong. She didn’t know how to open herself up as she had a moment ago. That was unintentional, inescapable. Now she’d gained control. How could she allow herself to let go of it?   
The silence seemed to urge him to do something, anything to let Belle know that if she broke, he’d put her back together. That she was allowed to break now. That he was here now, and he loved her, as much as he tried to hide it. He placed a paw on top of her hand before gripping it, trying to ignore how uncomfortably awkward he felt looking at his monstrous hands. He looked into her warm brown eyes instead. “You said you were afraid. Be afraid. I’ll be here to help you through it.”   
At that, her eyes filled with tears once more. She shifted around, trying to move closer to him. He didn’t seem to get the clue, and she resorted to grabbing him by the forearm.   
“Could you....could you hold me?” she pleaded, nearly whimpering.   
His heart shattered at the desperation in her eyes, how fragile she looked in that moment.   
“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, of course.”   


As he held her, and a few more soft sobs escaped her, he ran his paws up and down her back, soothing her. She burrowed her head into his chest, hiding her tearful eyes.   
  
_“You’ll never lose me. I know that you were referring to people you loved, and you don’t love me, but you’ll never lose me,”_ he wanted to say. _“I’m yours for evermore,”_ he almost whispered, but he knew this was not the time. It likely never would be, but especially not now.   
  
For now, he held Belle tight, not thinking about how much he didn’t want to let go. Only thinking about how much he wanted to see her wake up tomorrow morning with the fire back in her eyes and the peachy glow back in her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there! so I was hesitant about this chapter because to me it seemed unrealistically romantic in terms of how conscious Belle was of her feelings for Adam at the time, but idk. it's a thing I wrote, so here it is. also, it's the longest one I've written in a while!
> 
> I currently only have the next chapter written, and I don't like to post anything if I don't have another chapter to follow it bc then I feel like I'm left with nothing, so I'll post what I have as soon as I write more :) I got stuck so I actually ended up writing a college AU, and I'm planning on taking the ideas I used in that fic and putting it towards either a full length college AU or a modern AU that's basically the original story in a modern setting. 
> 
> I hope you guys like this, like I said, it feels a little weird to me, but I'm a hoe for hurt/comfort, so.


	15. memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blizzard conveniently occurs while Belle is visiting her less-than-polite classmate, Adam. When she gets snowed in with him, she reflects on her first impression of him.

_**Memory (Modern college AU)** _

 

_“You’re telling me I’m stuck here with you?”_   
  
It took all Belle had not to scream or throw the nearest book at Adam’s head. She’d come to his flat, a decent distance from her dorm, to return his copy of Hamlet - they’d gotten each other’s mixed up in class and he had hers. It shouldn’t have mattered that much, but he immediately called her complaining about all the sticky notes and charcoal scribbles that littered the pages of the book.   
  
“There’s calculation to my chaos, Adam,” Belle had said.   
“Well, I’d certainly love to see your chaos sometime, but not when I have to write a paper on this and I can barely read the monologues.”   
“It’s not like you don’t know them,” Belle muttered.   
“What was that?”  
She hung up before she was required to elaborate, immediately marching out of the school library, hastily wrapping her scarf around her neck. She texted him asking for his address before putting her gloves on and walking down the street. Before she was even halfway to Adam’s, the air became even crisper around her and everything seemed to become silent as snow began to fall around her, puffy white flakes cascading down and immediately clinging to the sidewalks. She groaned, hoping the snow wouldn’t stick too much - she was hardly wearing the right shoes and she wasn’t keen on catching a cold (if that’s even scientifically accurate.) By the time she knocked on Adam’s door, the snow had to be about two inches deep. 

  
Adam welcomed her in and insisted on getting her warm. She was slightly jarred by his generosity - Adam had become progressively friendlier with her as the semester went on, but the arrogant, infuriating, incredibly intelligent and maddeningly intellectual man wrapping a blanket around her and making her tea wasn’t exactly a sight she ever expected to see. 

 

He sat on a chaise adjacent to the couch he’d practically shoved her onto, sinking into the warmth of it. After a few moments of silence - and confused, suspicious glances from Belle - he suggested that they get a start on the project they’d been assigned together while she was here. Kill two birds with one stone, he’d added at the end somewhat nervously. Belle seemed wary of the shift in his voice, wondering exactly what it was in this world that could ever cause Adam to stumble. Little did she know, it was her.    
  
Unsuspecting of the severity of the storm, the pair continued working on their presentation for at least two or three hours until Belle looked out the fourth story window at the ground below.    
“Shit,” she mumbled. The snow was now at least a foot high.   
“Is it bad?” Adam asked, peering up through his thick, rounded glasses that Belle swore weren’t prescription.    
“It seems so, but the wind is more concerning than the snow. Do you happen to have a hooded coat I could borrow? I didn’t exactly dress for the occasion.”    
  
Adam rose to his feet, joining her at the window. Nearly on cue, the lights in the apartment flickered, and their phones both chimed with a campus notification. Neither of them even had to look to know that power was lost all throughout campus. However, Adam’s apartment seemed unaffected, the warm air still circulating through the vents. 

 

“You’re staying here with me,” Adam decreed.    
“I’m sorry?”   
“You’re staying here with me. You had the flu last week and you’ll freeze in your dorm,” Adam stated matter-of-factly.   
“You’re telling me I’m stuck here with you?” Belle challenged.   
If Adam was affected by her exclamation, he didn’t show much other than a slight, undetectable flinch. He stood tall, nodding his head.    
Belle sighed, immediately feeling guilty and sitting back down on the couch.    
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said softly, looking into his blue eyes apologetically.    
“You did. It’s alright, really. I get it.”   
Belle tried her best not to snort. “Oh, really?” Belle implored sarcastically.    
He held her gaze, his face not as tense as it usually was - his jaw no longer clenched, his eyebrows no longer pulled tight. “I know I haven’t exactly given the best impression in our class. And I certainly haven’t given the best impression to you,” he began.    
“That doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Belle scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

 

She very clearly remembered the lasting impression he’d left on her when he stormed into class late on the first day (and, notably, every other class after that, but that was another story) and demanded she give up her seat in the front row. When she refused, the girl next to her was kind enough - or afraid enough - to let Adam take her spot next to Belle. Throughout the rest of class, he gave Belle death glares when she spoke, as though he was unimpressed or even annoyed with her opinions. When she pulled out Romeo and Juliet at the end of class, reading as she walked out, he was unable to stop himself from mocking her. She wondered if he was actually a twelve year old in disguise.

 

Belle didn’t even have to recount the memory to Adam - he remembered it all too well.    
  
“I know my behavior that day - and probably all semester - is inexcusable, really. I was arrogant, and cocky, and insensitive. I want to provide you with an explanation, and I know that it can’t change your initial impression of me, but I hope it’ll change your mind about how you think of me now,” Adam began.    
  
He explained that every morning he was late because of his father. He would call him on the phone, screaming about how Adam had fucked up in some way - Adam shouldn’t have written that piece in the school newspaper on a play, it was too feminine - or he shouldn’t have registered for a psychology class that does nothing to benefit his major. Every morning, the time he went to class was seemingly the time his father caught up on Adam’s life either through the internet or mutual friends or bloody spies, for all Adam knows. And every morning, his father’s shouts and criticisms were still ringing in his head when he sat down next to the beautiful girl that reads that atrocious play, and he never really knew quite how to function around her in general, nonetheless when his mind is filled with so much anger and hatred and....agony.    
  
On that note, Belle’s eyes softened, her heart nearly dropping to the pit of her stomach. The man before her wasn’t arrogant - or, not as arrogant as he seemed - or immature or unfeeling, but rather feeling too much. A little bit broken. 

She didn’t know how to help him put himself back together again. She didn’t know if he even wanted her to. They sat in silence for a moment, and Belle hardly even knew what she was doing as she motioned for him to join her on the couch.    
  
“So, has your opinion of me changed, then?” He asked, the corners of his lips tugging up into a shy smile.    
Belle smirked, elbowing him playfully. “Perhaps. I still can’t forgive you for the way you spoke of Romeo and Juliet, though.”   
“Oh god, that dreadful play is why you hate me? Seriously? I forgot you even liked it,” he lied.   
“Sure you did.”   
“Okay, fine, I didn’t. I didn’t forget lots of things. But I wish I could forget how much you love that play, then perhaps I could respect you as an intellectual,” he teased.    
Belle feigned offense, opening her mouth wide and placing a hand to her heart. “How dare you? Romeo and Juliet is a classic tragedy about young love.”   
“It’s a classic joke,” Adam grumbled. “Juliet’s like, thirteen, and a bunch of people die. Real romantic.”    
Belle’s silence revealed her defeat. She quickly changed the subject. “You do remember a lot, don’t you? How did you even know I had the flu last week?” she questioned.   
“Cough drops in your pencil case. Not to mention, you just looked terrible. You’re always pale, but this was a different level.”   
“You’re so kind.”   
“Alright, how about this: the exquisite ivory color of you had turned ashy, the rosy color missing from your cheeks,” he said dramatically.    
Belle blinked a few times before replying. “Damn. Where’d you learn to write poems on the spot?”   
“You read enough Shakespeare, it becomes easy. I’d think you’d know that,” he shrugged.   
  


In the moment of silence that followed after Adam’s nonchalant reply, Belle’s mind wandered to his previous statement.    
“What did you mean when you said you haven’t forgotten lots of things?” she inquired.   
“Oh, I don’t know. I just meant I have a good memory, don’t pay any mind to it,” Adam dismissed, avoiding her gaze.    
“Adam.”   
“Okay, so, maybe I remember a lot of the things you’ve said in class. Or what you were wearing on the first day.”    
“Adam...why?” Belle laughed, her eyes widening.   
“Why do you think?”   
  
All was silent in Adam’s apartment. The snow always has that effect of seeming to make the world stop turning, but for Belle and Adam, time couldn’t have moved slower as Adam moved in towards Belle. She shut her eyes, waiting for the moment she realized she’d actually wanted for a while, although she hadn’t been able to admit it. Instead, she felt a blanket being wrapped around her shoulders. She opened her eyes, her eyebrows furrowing, silently asking for an explanation.   
“Your blanket fell off,” he smirked.    
“You asshole,” Belle muttered before placing her hands on his cheeks and pulling him in. He made a noise of surprise as she pressed her lips to his. He opened his mouth after a moment, deepening the kiss as he grabbed her waist. She moved against him, running her fingers through his shoulder-length hair that two weeks ago she’d sworn she hated (she always loved it) and for once, both of their minds were as silent as the snow-covered streets outside, not debating or questioning or remembering. Simply melting into one another, letting go of everything as they held onto each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there! I decided to go ahead and post this even though I don't have anything else written to follow this. I'm not sure if I'll ever finish these prompts, but I'd like to thank you guys for all your support and love - it means so so much to me. I hope you all enjoyed this! I've been considering doing a multi-chapter college AU with a similar plot to this - Belle's "imprisonment" being because of a blizzard or something. let me know if you think that's something I should do!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!! As I said in the description, these are all written for thestanfoubrew and remuslupinsmiled's fic prompts for the month of June, which I'll link below. I'm posting day one early so you all have a chance to check out these amazing prompts and get a feel for it! Hopefully you all will join me :) also, please do leave comments and let me know what you think of these!! I'm still pretty new to fic writing (I've really only written one serious fic, which you can find on my profile) so I'd love a little encouragement :)
> 
> https://thestanfoubrew.tumblr.com/post/161031220759/beauty-and-the-beast-fanfictionfanart-celebration


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